When Blumiere loved her
by 11cleyva
Summary: A love story of the two that will never be together. Based on the game, with added material.
1. Chapter 1

"Come along now. The Master's carriage has arrived!" A Pixl well in to his age was standing near the large entrance. He wore a dark brown suit, with a matching bowtie. His face was plump as was the rest of him, his buttons were popping from the holes on his vest. Large tapestries covered the walls, the scenes were of a large battle, though the colours were fading, the slight image could be made out. In the middle of the image was a very proud figure holding a book over its head, the others around were kneeling on the ground.

The Pixl waited in front of the words that ended the story on the walls. He studied his pocket watch: 11 o'clock. Shutting it, his eyes wondered up. There descending the large white marbled staircase was the man that they had waited for.

"My lord, the carriage has been waiting for-"

"I do not care whether it has or hasn't. It is my carriage and I shall get to it when I feel that I am ready." The man wore all black; his top hat was made of velvet with a silk grey band. The vest was of black silk and cotton, its buttons shone of gold. Around his neck was a red jabot. He floated just off the ground. He was a gifted and powerful man, but his power made him dangerous at times. "Besides, it was the help that was slowing me down."

He gave a devilish smile. His eyes were deep and dark, but flickered like a candle. He was not the charming man that he once was in the tapestry image. He hovered above the ground as the Pixl followed.

"Now Mortièrre, while I am gone, I want a strict hand on my son. No little promenades around the garden, the boy most be taught to rule. Not to look at butterflies."

"Yes, of course my Liege. I will find him and see that he doesn't leave the castle."

"Very good. Now I shan't be long, three days at the most." And off rode the carriage out the black gates and past the dark trees. The rest of the household staff sighed in relief, and with that Mortièrre turned on heel and went into the manor. Standing in the hallway was a young man, he had a look of sadness when his eyes met the Butler's.

"There you are young sir. I was given instructions to get you into the house at once." Mortièrre turned to shut the large door behind him. The man was looking up at the image on the tapestry.

"Tell me, Mortièrre. I'm I my father's son?"

"Pardon? I'm afraid I can't answer that, sire."

"No, I mean… I look at this image of my father, I see that I do not look like him in anyway."

" The Dark Prognosticus can change a man, sometimes for better or worse. But he was like you when he was young." The Butler stood closer to him. "But you sir, are indeed your father's son. Even if you may not look like it."

"I just feel that, he doesn't like me. He tells me that I look like a human." the man turned to face the other. "Tell me, do I?"

"Come let us walk." They made their way to the garden. The dark forest loomed in the distance, but the two walked the grassy grounds of the castle.

"Well, Blumiere I will admit that you do have a somewhat human appearance, but you are indeed a Pixl like your father and the rest of us." Mortièrre sat on the bench and Blumiere took another.

"But how is that? I have many difference from my father. I have…legs." He stretched his leg out and looked at his polished shoe.

"And the fact you have blue hair. But the matter of the fact is, so did your father. Before he got his hands on the Dark Prognosticus, that is. That book is very dangerous, that is why he had to take it away from the world, incase it went into the wrong hands. But that book, gave him the powers that he has now. He accepted his fate as it's owner, now he most deal with what that power leaves him. Besides, a true Pixl turns he is lost only to reappear. And you sir, can, so you are a Pixl. "

"Why couldn't he just destroy that evil book?" He took in the last statement, but continued.

"Everything needs its opposite. There is another book, it is the Light Prognosticus. It's whereabouts are a mystery, but if the Dark where destroyed so would the good of the world. There can't be one without the other, see." Mortièrre looked at his watch. "Good Over There. I most get back to the house, the silverware won't clean itself…Blumiere, I expect you home by 9 tonight."

He watched the old Pixl walk up the cobbled pathway to the house. A slight smile was on his lips, he always liked Mortièrre. The Butler seemed more like a father than his real one. Mortièrre always let him get away with things that would be frowned upon. In his train of thoughts, he mulled over where he should venture next. The grounds never change, and for the most part the forest had been explored. There was one place that he hadn't seen, his father always told him to never go there. Even the help told him of stories from beyond the forest. Five miles was a small clan of humans that lived near the forest edge, and Blumiere wanted to see what a real human looked like.

Leaving the garden, he strolled his way up to the kitchen door. Mortièrre was shining the spoons, to involved in his work to look up. The kitchen was always Blumiere's favourite place to be, it smelt of great foods cooking. When he was younger, Mortièrre would allow him to come in and get a free helping of whatever was left over from the dinner. Over eating at the table was despised by his father and Blumiere never had enough when it came to large dinners for many guests.

The Cook, Foda, was cutting a carrot for the small dinner for one. She was a round Pixl with red curly hair that was held up by her little white hat. It sat just on her bun, but her hair was always breaking lose. She worked in the kitchen for as long as he could remember, 25 years that he could recall, maybe more. He snuck an apple from the cabinet, but as always she caught him.

"Getting piggy again are we, Bloomy?" Her cockney accent was always a change from the high end voices he hears, including his own.

"Sorry, I just needed a quick bite." He juggled the fruit from hand to hand. Mortièrre had lifted his head up from the spoons, _Is Blumiere in trouble, again?_ He thought and marched behind him.

"What would your father say?" She said beaming a smile brighter then the whitest flour.

"Probably, how he regrets having the kitchen staff let him get away with so much food." Mortièrre took the apple from his hands, inspecting it thoroughly he gave it back. "Now get going before I follow your fathers advice and lock you in your room." Blumiere stuffed the apple in his vest pocket and came over to Foda. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and left the room.

When he was gone, Foda spoke, "You're not the boys father, you know." She went back to the carrots.

"Sometimes, it's best that I don't act like his real father." He spoke as he walked back to his table adorn with shimmering utensils.

Quick as a flash, Blumiere darted up the large curving staircase, passing large portraits of his father. Each with glaring eyes that followed him as he walked, he always felt as if he was being judged by each one. But that all ended when he finally got to his door, opening it he was greeted by the bright sun shining through his window. He placed his amethyst rocks on the bookshelf just where the sun could hit them. They sparkled in all their glory. Hanging from the top of his window were crystals that danced rainbows on his white wallpaper, when the breeze blew. Eyeing the closest door near his desk, he reached in a grabbed a ruddy old trench coat. It was nothing special and that is why he loved it. It was best for those escapades through the Dark Forest, it many reminders from previous trips out there. Snag holes showed the adventures that he had taken place in. He placed the apple into the right pocket and he made his way out to the forest.

It was only the afternoon, but the trees blocked any sun to light the floor. He knew his basic direction to the clearing, just he didn't know how long before he got to it. Over the little creek, and past many trees that had fallen down. But soon the trees began to thin, only to be replaced by large rocks. His feet began to hurt, but he knew he was so close to the village. The sky could be seen now, his watch showed that he had been walking for nearly three hours.

The rocks began to become a common sight to him now. Soon the boulders stopped just a little ahead of him. He rushed to the edge, he had found it. The village of the humans. He sat on the nearest rock and watched them walk. His father told him to avoid them at all cost, they are dangerous and can't be trusted. He was raised to always hate them, and he indeed found himself glaring at them. They looked so primitive, and low class. Such a waste of life, not worthy to shine his shoes. Each one was just as hideous as the last; except maybe that one.

It was a woman walking in the distance. Her face couldn't be made out, but she was pretty to him. But she was still a human, a pretty human. She wore a puce bonnet, and her dress matched in colour. She picked a flower from the florist and gave it a smell, her eyes looked up at the figure on the cliff. She paid for a bouquet of nasturtiums and made her way to the cliff. Blumiere tried not to care, but she was tempting on the eye. Waiting for the passersby's to leave, he laid on the ground and edged his way to the end. She was looking up at him, with a smile on her face. She held the flowers to her, and turned to walk away. She was coaxing him to follow, he was unsure. It was getting late, he really must go home.

Going home won, standing to get a move on, the ground began to shift. He stood on the weak end of the cliff, and it was collapsing under his weight. He tried to grab the side, but it crumbled in his grip. He was falling, it was the longest feeling he ever felt. But soon he felt nothing.

"Wake up, Sleepy head." A voice spoke softly, though he couldn't make out who it was. His head had a great discomfort on his left side. Slowly he opened his eyes, it was a foggy image, but someone was looking down on him.

"Who are you?…" His eyes focused on the figure over him, it was the woman from the street. " A HUMAN!"

"At least we can remember who we are. That's good, I thought that fall on your head would have rattled you silly." She was patting a cool damp cloth on his face. He shoved her hand away.

"How dare you handle me you human!" He shot off the large bed he was laying on. The pain in his leg forced him to the ground, the sound of her heels came closer.

Her face was confused, not only that she was gorgeous. Her hair was French braided and tucked in a bun. Her hair was white like snow, it shimmered like silver. "What sort of remark is that? Is this the way you treat your savior? I could have let you stay at the bottom of that cliff, you Pixl"

"You know what I am. So then why, why save me?"

"Anyone with a heart will save an injured one." She helped him back up to his feet. She was shorter than him, she look up into his red eyes. He was unaware that he was looking into hers. She put him back into the bed, and continued to dab his eye.

"Might I ask for your name?"

"Such a gentleman. I am Lady Timpani." She looked down and smiled, he found himself smiling with her. "And your's?"

"Count Blumiere. Heir to the Tribe of Darkness." Thinking that would impress her.

"Can't say I ever heard of it. _Count_ Blumiere, huh? Can't be much of a great man, if you wear ratted coats and have smashed apples in your pockets." Putting the cloth in the dish on the nightstand, she looked at him. "Your eye is not looking any better, I'm afraid. Can you see out of it?"

"A faint outline."

"The doctor is coming to see you in the morning." she got up from the bed. "I'm sure you're very hungry my little _Count_."

"I am-did you say in the morning? What time is it?" He shot up off the pillow

"11 o'clock. Why?"

"They probably are all in a tizzy now." He sat back and sunk back into the soft bed.

She stopped by the door, lowering her eyes to the ground. "If you leave now, I fear that you won't make it back to were you came from and…" pausing to think. "And I don't want you to get worse."

"I must get back, before my father arrives. He has a sworn hatred for all humans, I mustn't be seen with you. I have to go." He was blocked from getting up.

"You see, in the little time we've been together. I'm afraid I've grown to like you, sir. Nay, more than that. And I know it is immoral for a lady to state her passion for one, but I must."

"I ,too, have grown to adore you. But surely you know the costs, what does your parents say of me?"

"My parents don't know you're here. And if they did, I'm sure it's the poor house for me." Arising from the bed, she helped him out. He was weak in the right knee, but she kept him from falling. "I will walk with you, no one will ever notice me gone. And do not protest, I shall not leave you for an instant."

She sat him down and grabbed his coat, it smelt of rotten apples, wincing at it he placed it on his shoulders. Timpani put the bonnet that she wore at the market, along with her matching coat. Her and Blumiere left the room.

"Good Over There! Bloomy's never this late, shouldn't we get a search party?" Foda had her hands cupped over her mouth. Mortièrre looked at his pocket watch. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat.

"Now, we mustn't worry, I'm sure there is a perfectly good explanation for this."

"The explanation is that he's injured or dead!"

Mortièrre spun around and grabbed her arms, "Don't you Dare say that! Blumiere probably just got lost in the forest." He loosened his grip at approaching foot steps. It was a younger Pixl, he was good friends with the now missing, Blumiere. He strode over to them, he was the horseman of the house. He watched over and cared for the horses, and Blumiere always liked the barn.

"Roseland, anything?"

"Sorry, sir. I checked the east side, and found no sign of him. I'm worried, sir."

" Like the rest of us aren't? Keep looking!" Mortièrre stomped away to the garden.

"He's just very scared, Roseland. I've never seen the man like this in a long time. Come now." She and the man walked to find the butler. He was pacing the garden, his lantern could be seen.

Just at the edge of the forest stood both Blumiere and Timpani. She was holding him up as they stopped to part.

"I hope very much that I will be able to see again." Blumiere quietly said to her.

"I like to think so. But how? What with our parents?"

"There is a clearing in the forest not far from your place and mine. I will try to write you." He held her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Writing would only draw suspicion. Maybe we should meet there every Friday, next week, and every week." She smiled wide and he did to.

"Give me two weeks. I don't know how I will heal in a week."

"Deal, in two weeks. Don't forget."

"I would never forget you. I shall wait for you near the cliff, and show you the way" He was looking down at her, the light danced on their faces. She let go, he stood on his own. The pain surged up his leg, but he walked on. Timpani watched him disappear into the darkness, her mind was racing. She was falling in love with him, she only hoped that so was he.

Mortièrre looked down at his watch, his eyes hurt from the lack of sleep and the tears shed. He wished to not lose hope, but the remains were slowly fading. "We should…turn in for the night." He snapped it shut and passed by the cook and horseman. They turned to follow the butler, Roseland gave the forest one last look before he left the garden. He say something.

"Mortièrre? Can you come here?" He was confused, were his eyes playing tricks, or was this real. The man came back to him. He looked at him, then followed Roseland's eyes. They were fixed on a figure, it was slumped over and staggering. Mortièrre began to walk to it, getting closer he started to run. The figure picked up speed, but collapsed to the grass.

"Blumiere!" Mortièrre shouted as he approached the mass. Roseland and Foda weren't to far behind. Mortièrre's heart began to ache as he ran, but the pain would never stop him from Blumiere. Reaching him, he fell to his knees. Wrapping his arms around him, he wept. Taking Blumiere's head in his hands he looked over his face. He too, wept from seeing his old friend. "Blumiere."

"I'm sorry I'm late." Weak from the pain, he whispered in Mortièrre's ear. Roseland and Foda helped both men up.

"For a man your age, you shouldn't be running." She scolded Mortièrre as she helped walk back to the house.

"Lay off woman." He remarked.

Blumiere lay on the top of his covers. Foda entered the room with a cup of hot tea for them all. Mortièrre sat on the end of the bed, watching the young man. Roseland was trying to only look at the injured man, but couldn't help his wandering eyes from looking at the rooms decorations.

"What happened to you? I demand answers." Mortièrre crossed his arms, but unfurled them for the teacup.

"And no lies, deary." Foda added.

Blumiere looked down, he was caught. But if they found out, they'd tell his father. "I…" He stopped.

"Well? We're all waiting." Roseland spoke.

"I slipped on a rock." He didn't look anyone in the eye.

"Blimey, that most have been a big rock to make you look like that." Foda said and peered over at Mortièrre.

"Indeed. And was this rock also a doctor? You seem pretty well cleaned up for just slipping."

"I think that, just maybe, someone went into the forest and fell down. Possibly a bluff." Roseland said sipping his tea.

"Go on with it. Do you know of something?" Mortièrre got up and walked over to the man. Blumiere was getting fidgety, he was being found out.

"I know that there's a large cliff in the forest, but I can't remember where it is." Roseland said and looked over at Blumiere.

"Your not being honest with us are you?" Foda sat on the end of the bed.

"Do you want me to tell your father, boy?"

"You'll tell him anyway, so I should just come out with it." He felt small and weak, Mortièrre came in close.

"You should always tell the bloody truth." He said and got away quickly.

"I went walking into the forest, I was looking for….looking for the human settlement." He was crying as he spoke.

"Humans? Living in the forest? As if" Roseland muttered.

"No, it is true. I've filled his head with rubbish and he goes to find-" Mortièrre stopped and looked down at him, "Did you meet a human?"

Blumiere shook yes, everyone let out a gasp. "My word, they do exist."

"Her name is Timpani." He continued.

"Isn't that drums in an orchestra?" Roseland asked.

"Shush! You meet this 'Timpani', a human? Did she take care of your sores?" Mortierre asked him.

"Yes. She was going to call a doctor, but I left with her back to here."

"Oh, great. Now this human knows where we live. Super, now we're all going to be killed."

"SHUSH! You showed this person the way to the home. Why?"

"She didn't want to leave my side until I got home. Said she didn't want me to get hurt."

"Love." Foda whispered. It was loud enough to get Mortièrre's ear. He knew that even he couldn't win over such a power thing as that.

"Blumiere…I can't save you every time. But this, is something your father should…" He stopped to think. Everyone in the room braced for the worst. "Should not know of this." Blumiere was stunned by the words the he spoke.

Foda shot up, "And what do you plan to tell his father when he asks about the leg?"

"He simply fell out his window while trying to close it. He was injured by the fall, of course. And when he asks about the eye…he landed on his hand when he fell." Roseland thought of on the spot.

"Yes! And us three found him. I come into his room to ask if he needs anything and I find him not here. But his window is wide open, I look down and find him. Roseland, you are down at the bottom and try to help him up. Foda, you and I go down to help him in the house. No other house keepers will be up to see a thing." Mortièrre finished.

"But a hurt eye and a twisted knee, all from falling two stories?" Foda shot out. He walked over to Blumiere, inspecting his left eye.

"We'll it's not cloudy or bloody from the fall, I think we can hold off on that. Then, come out with it days later, as if an after thought to the fall. For now, just the leg. It'll just need a walking stick, probably for life, though."

"He should get one of them fancy walking sticks with a big diamond on the top."

"This is not a joke, Roseland! For now a plain black cane should suffice." He patted the young mans head and took out his watch. He soon shut it, "Well, it think it is time to get to sleep. Do you need anything right now?"

"I have something else to say. I promised to meet Timpani again in two weeks."

"Okay. Okay. Just go to sleep, we talk in the morn." And with that Mortièrre took the teacup from Blumiere and walked out. The rest followed close behind, each holding a cup and a candle. They made their way down the endless staircase, each one thinking of the events that happened.

"What if his father finds out? Can he read minds?" Roseland asked.

"If he could, he would have found things that would anger him to no end in this house. So, no. I do not think he can." Mortièrre answered.


	2. Chapter 2

"You saw him fall from his window?" Asked a very disenchanted, Lord Vice. He swirled his tea cup around, watching the lose leaves spin helplessly.

"No. Not exactly. But when he awoke that is what he told me. He was found by Roseland." Mortierre composure was steady, every answer was quick and calm.

"Then why am I asking you? Why not the filthy animal handler?" Putting the cup down, he stood up. Drifting over to the standing butler, he stopped and looked into his eyes. "You know what I take from all this? I believe that the boy is lying. And I plan on getting to the bottom of this."

With that, he formed a square around him and flipped out of sight. Appearing inside the room of his son, one of the maids had brought him lentil soup to eat while bed ridden. He was surprised to see his father appear just before his eyes.

"Hello, my boy. How are we feeling? Better I hope." His smile was quite frightful to Blumiere. He made his way to the window, he peeked his head out. Blumiere set the soup aside and prepared for the worst.

"I'm quite well, Father. It's just-"

Lord Vice turned back to him, drifting closer he stopped at the foot of the bed. "It's just what?"

Blumiere struggled to find the words. "I can't very well make due with my eye. I think I might be blind."

His father moved through the air like smoke, he came closer to him. His hands came from inside his cape. They had no arms to attach to so getting far away from his body was no trouble. The floating hands latched on to Blumiere's face. Lord Vice soon joined them. The eye was almost white from days uncared for, Blumiere could see his father's expression go from concern to annoyance.

Looking up from the boy, his hands still held tight. "Seems to me, that this is going to have to come out."

"Out? Father, does this mean that-"

"Settle down! I'll get this fixed. Don't get scared." Lord Vice said releasing his face. He pressed his hand to his mouth in thought.

"So it won't be removed? Thank, Grambi." Blumiere sighed in relief.

"Hmm? Oh no, it will come out. How else will you learn your lesson?" Lord Vice made his way to the door, the maid was standing in the door when he opened it, he gave her a sickening look.

"I… I was coming to get the bowl from the soup." She quickly said.

"Please do, he is in much to worried to eat anything. He may get upset latter on, so no food for the night. Thank you much." He turned and gave him an eerie smile.

"Oh my, yes…This doesn't look very good. It'll have to be removed." A very old Pixl with a rather large hump on his back, probably from rickets as a child, Blumiere always feared this doctor. His Father spoke of him when it came to removing appendages or any part for that matter, usually as a threat when it came to bad behaviour. Doctor Ampew T. Awf, was the largest name in Tribe of Darkness, next to Lord Vice. His glasses magnified his eye to that of a bug, and his absents of important teeth made that fact all more frightening. Lord Vice looked over the man's hunch back to peer down at his son, he had a face of gratification for this.

"Well?" He said when Dr. Awf finished looking him over. The little man motioned him outside the room to discuss the problem.

"It's a perfectly good eye. It just need some more time heal."

"Are you daft? It is much to far gone to save. Besides, you said the same thing to the Duke when he got hit in the eye with a dart. And we all know what became of him." Lord Vice opened his cape to try to scare Awf.

"He just had a bad run in with colitis, that's all."

"Be it as it may, I want that eye taken out. At least one might think that he had a few battles with ruffians, instead of falling two stories and landing on his face. The family name of Bleakindorn must keep it's power."

"Well put. If you would like I can take his leg as well."

"Let's not make him anymore lame then what he is. Just the eye, and make it quick, I must be off in two days."

"I can get it taken care of now if you like."

"I would love that."


End file.
